


In the Making

by sunflowerbright



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-02
Updated: 2013-02-02
Packaged: 2017-11-27 21:51:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,330
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/666875
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunflowerbright/pseuds/sunflowerbright
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dealing with a new Doctor should not be this difficult. Unfortunately, it was: In where the Doctor is looking for something and Rose has no idea what’s going on.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In the Making

The new Doctor was different. So different, in fact, that she sometimes had a really hard time believing he was the same man. Which, technically, he wasn’t. Every single cell in his body had changed, _every single cell_ , from his built to his teeth to his hair and other certain areas that she hope… that she was almost certain he had. Even his bloody _accent_ had changed. So, what: new body, new personality, _same man?  
_  
It really shouldn’t work this way. Unfortunately, the Doctor seemed to think that it did. And it was oh, so unfair that he still had that manic, wide grin that she couldn’t help but return, that she could still make him giggle (nine-hundred year-old Time Lord, and she could make him _giggle_ ) and that he still grasped her hand as if his own was made just for that purpose.  
  
It had been one thing when the Doctor had been all leather jackets and intense blue eyes, so much pain hidden in plain sight. Knowing that she could make him smile and laugh and perhaps, hopefully, forget a bit about the horrors that haunted his memories, it had been extremely hard to not just jump him on the spot. She’d firmly told herself to not go there, that he didn’t… dance, as it were. Of course, then came Adam and _then,_ oh Lord, came Jack and she’d wondered, for just a few glorious moments, if maybe, perhaps… he did.  
  
Of course, then he’d gone and bloody _changed_ , or regenerated or whatever, right in front of her, acting like this was the most normal thing in the whole wide world. Which, incidentally, it was for him, but even after Gelth and Slitheen and Daleks, seeing someone change into another person in front of you was still in the category of ‘odd’ and possibly ‘mental’ for her.  
  
Yeah, maybe that was it. Maybe she was simply going mad. Logical explanation  
  
It would certainly explain the fact that this new incarnation of the Doctor seemed… more inclined to ignore personal space. Specifically _her_ personal space. Where the other Doctor would hug her and hold her hand like it was the most natural thing in the world, _this_ one would do it all the time, even when she didn’t expect it – especially when she didn’t expect it. He was initiating more hugs than she was, bumping against her shoulder when they sat side by side, brushing his hand up her arm as he showed her something and she could have sworn she felt him play with the ends of her hair, when they were lying in the grass on Delta Sixteen, looking out for shooting stars across the sky.  It was… different. And not good different, just… different. Once, she would’ve been in complete euphoria over the fact that the Doctor was even more attentive to her, but now it was just one more thing that had changed, and she wasn’t sure if she liked it or not. What did it mean? How much of his personality had changed? He still wanted her around, that much was certain. But was all the physical attention just another aspect of his spanking new personality or… could it possibly mean something else?  
  
It was seriously making her head hurt just thinking about it, and so, with a sigh, Rose decided that it would do best not to dwell too much on it. She’d pushed aside her own feelings before after all, when the Doctor had been all big ears and raw pain, and if he all of the sudden looked all… foxy and slim, and decided that he needed to hug her as often as he needed to breathe, well… she was just going to have to not let that get to her, right?  
  
It shouldn’t be that big of a problem.

 

 

*

 

 

 

“Can I just say, this, traveling with you: I _love_ it.”  
  
Big grins where exchanged as the wind whipped around them, ripping at their hair and clothes. His eyes – _brown, not blue_ – sparkled as the words left her mouth, looking as happy as she felt.  
  
“Me too!”  
  
She didn’t miss the hand reaching for her as she walked past, long fingers gently running up her arm before disappearing again. It all happened in a matter of seconds, and if it hadn’t been for his knee constantly bumping against hers under a table at Christmas, she wouldn’t have thought any more of this short moment in time.  
  
Now she was left wondering what would have happened, had she not started to walk before he’d moved.  
  
It kept going on. It was a firmer grip around her waist, a hug that lasted just a few seconds too long, an arm thrown casually over her shoulders as they watched the Mardi Gras parade roll by.  
  
When she was alone, which was mostly just before going to sleep, she allowed herself to imagine that it meant something. That the Doctor wasn’t just a sociable teddy-bear that would, to quote her first Doctor _‘hug anyone_ ’ and would hook up with trees and blondes all over the universe. That when he touched her it actually _meant_ something.  
  
In the waking hours, when she was around him, she ignored that thought.  
  
But this was getting ridiculous.  
  
 _“What_ do you think you are _doing_?”  
  
Big brown eyes blinked owlishly at her, eyebrow raised in confusion. It was a rather odd position, her lounging on the couch with her back against the armrest, legs stretched out and _A Christmas Carol_ firmly grasped in her hands. And then him, leaning over the back of the couch, one arm behind her shoulders and the other resting on her stomach, his face merely inches from hers.  
  
Hence her rather bewildered and slightly shocked question.  
  
“Erm… I was gonna… carry you to bed?” His eyes lit up, like they often did when he had a bright idea in the category of _‘so_ that’s _how you put out a fire!’_ “Yes! Carry you to bed. You were looking rather tired, and I _am_ here as a serviceable gentleman, despite the rudeness, so I thought, why should you bother getting up when I can just as well carry you to your room that is just right next door?”  
  
Rose stared, and tried to think of all the things that were possibly wrong with his statement. The list was too long to keep track of.  
  
“I’m… not tired. I was reading,”  
  
“Ah, yes, just as well then.” He stood up rather abruptly, the light from her reading lamp highlighting his face. Wait, was he _blushing?_ “Good thing, reading. Good for brainwork, not that you need it, but you know, always able to appreciate a good book. Gives you something to do while I… go someplace else.”  
  
He was out of the room before she could say anything more. She was just about to go after him, possibly to ask if perhaps regeneration knocked a few screws loose up there, but that thought led to the inevitable – that he had changed. And while she wouldn’t have hesitated walking after the old Doctor and wrestling the truth out of him, there was the distinct possibility that this categorized as _‘normal behavior’_ for this one. Or that he simply didn’t want to talk to her about it.  
  
That last thought hurt a bit more than it should, considering that she was determined to get over her feelings for him.

 

 

*

 

 

Rose Tyler was prepared for a lot of things.  
  
Werewolves from outer space had… not been one of them.  
  
She wasn’t quite sure what to think when the Doctor sprang into the dungeon, all last-minute timing and bewilderment. She’d been completely terrified, locked down there with this strange creature, and then proud of herself for actually managing to get them all free, just as he burst in. She wasn’t quite sure if she should be relieved that he’d gotten there at all or pissed that he’d stolen her thunder.  
  
There was a slightly bitter voice in the back of her head, pointing out that the old Doctor would not have let her be alone for this long, would not have put her in danger this way. But that wasn’t entirely fair, if one considered children in gas-masks and getting kidnapped in Cardiff. At least she knew she wasn’t helpless.  
  
Still, _werewolves from outer space._ Just as she’d thought life with the Doctor couldn’t get any more weirdly magnificent, it did a complete spin on her. It was exhilarating, running through the corridors of that old building, Queen Victoria in tow and Rose couldn’t help herself as she stood in the hallway, staring at the terrifying beast coming closer.  
  
 _There is something of the wolf about you.  
_  
“Rose!” she heard the shout, and was suddenly quite forcibly grasped around the waist and pulled back in the room. See. Grabby, this one. Despite being banished, it had turned out to be a rather good day after all, and as her and the Doctor’s howling finally faded away in tune with the sounds of the TARDIS, Rose found herself completely drained, slowly nodding off in the captain’s chair.  
  
“Hey, Doctor, if you want, you can carry me to bed now,” she quietly joked, sliding further down in the seat, barely able to keep her eyes open.  
  
“Hm? What?” he said, snapping to attention and looking at her with an odd and somewhat shocked expression on his face “Sorry, carry you _where_?”  
  
She rolled the sentence over in her head one more time and giggled.  
  
“You know, couple of weeks ago when I was innocently reading and you decided I looked tired, so you planned an ambush to get me to bed?” Okay, she was very tired, so she _may_ have said something inappropriate, but surely nothing that would make the Doctor blush like that? Huh. Maybe it was just the glow from the console.  
  
“Oh, yes, that!” he squeaked, quickly clearing his throat. “Um, right, well, if you want me to…”  
  
“Woah! I was messing with ya head!”  She was suddenly wide-awake as he started moving towards her, sitting up and holding her hands in the air. He abruptly stopped midway, looking for all the world like someone had just told him that the Earth was in fact shaped like a triangle.  
  
“Uh, sure…” he mumbled, his hand automatically coming up to scratch the back of his neck. If she didn’t know better – and she did – she would say he looked almost disappointed.  
  
Alright, enough of this.  
  
“What is up with you lately?” she said, standing up from the seat and folding her arms over her chest in a gesture not at all adopted from his former self. “Are you still having, I dunno, after-shocks from the regeneration? Like, your brain being muddled? Or is it literally like being reborn and you have the mind of a twelve-year old as of the moment?”  
  
The Doctor’s responding look was a mixture of the famous ‘dribble-on-your-shirt’ and complete gobsmacked, his mouth hanging slightly open as he looked at her as if he was seeing her for the first time. The minutes dragged on, and Rose became uncomfortably aware of the fact that she was still very tired, and well, she got rude when she was tired.  
  
“Sorry, that was overstepping a line, wasn’t it? ‘M just tired is all, haven’t been sleeping much lately what with all the werewolves and monarchs banishing me,” she tried for a smile, but was pretty sure it didn’t look pretty. Even her facial muscles were tired.  
  
“Rose…” He started, moving just a fraction closer. “If there’s something bothering you…”  
  
And there he was, looking all rumbled and sweet and pretty much everything she’d wanted when she was young and without the sharp memory of a completely different man.

Sharp memories like glass cutting into her skin.  
  
She lost her nerve. “It’s nothing,” she mumbled, demonstratively rubbing a hand over her eyes. “Today was just a bit too much I think. Going off to bed then,”  
  
She left before he could say anything else.

 

 

*

 

 

Rose had a nightmare following that incident. That, in itself wasn’t so unusual. Living a life like this, her subconscious was bound to have some issues to work through. No, what was unusual about this nightmare was the fact that everything was golden. Brilliant, golden light, not unlike the one she’d seen surrounding her Doctor as he’d changed. It was beautiful, mesmerizing.  
  
It was burning her up.  
  
She awoke with a scream stuck in her throat, hands clutching the sheets and her eyes desperately looking around in the darkness. Her heart was trying to beat its way out of her chest, and she knew with a sudden clarity that she would not be getting any sleep if she stayed here, cooped up alone in this dark room. Not even the familiar hum of the TARDIS could soothe her this time around.  
  
She crawled out of bed and wrapped one of the blankets around herself, wandering into the hall and heading for the library. Maybe she could read until her eyes got too heavy to see the page, then she could nod off on the couch. _Then_ the Doctor could carry her to bed, since he really seemed to be wanting to.  
  
Her brain did not properly register this train of thought, but if it had, she might’ve stayed out of the library all-together.  
  
As it were, she entered the cozy and old-fashioned room, finding it already occupied by a sleeping and snoring Time Lord.  
  
A wide grin spread over her face as she watched him: he was reclined in one of the comfy armchairs, long legs stretched out before him and feet propped up on the table. A book had fallen from his limp hands onto the floor and his glasses where perched adorably askew on his nose.  
  
As if sensing her presence in the room, the snoring suddenly stopped and his eyes opened, completely awake and not at all foggy from the deep sleep he must’ve been in. Just another superior Time Lord thing she figured, smiling softly as he beamed at her.  
  
“Hello! Why aren’t you sleeping your little human sleep?” he asked, and she found herself relieved that he didn’t seem at all miffed about their earlier little fight. If it could even be called a fight at all. Incident, one might label it as.  
  
“I dunno,” she said, moving over to the couch and plunking herself down on it. “Why aren’t you sleeping your little Time Lord sleep?”  
  
He grimaced, removing the glasses and sticking them back in his pocket. “I don’t need to sleep as much as you do, Rose.”  
  
“Looked like you were pretty far gone just a minute ago,” she gently teased. “You were snoring an’ everything.”  
  
The look on his face was borderline hilarious. “Rose Tyler,” he began. “I am a Time Lord, and Time Lords _do not_ snore!”  
  
“Breathing really heavily then,” she giggled, delighted at his attempt at superiority. “Through your mouth and everything. Drooling a little bit too.”  
  
“Am not!” he protested, though his hand quickly shot up to wipe at his mouth. The action just caused her to laugh harder. The Doctor pouted in protest.  
  
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you sleep before,” she said, still smiling. “You looked very cute.”  
  
It was meant to sound teasing and a bit demeaning, but somehow it came out as a throaty confession and if his look was anything to go by, the Doctor had _not_ missed her tone of voice.  
  
“You thought so?” He muttered. The bastard sounded smug. She demonstratively stuck her tongue out at him.  
  
“Don’t let it get to your head. It’ll explode soon, that’s how big it is,”  
  
His smile turned softer. “Why couldn’t you sleep? Was it nightmares again?”  
  
“Yeah, but it… hey, what with ‘again’? Do you _know_ when I have nightmares?” Was he _monitoring_ her? She wasn’t completely certain what to make of that thought.  
  
“What? No, I don’t, but do you really think I can’t hear… I mean, you’ve seen a lot for someone so young, you’re bound to have some disturbing dreams.” Oh, he was lying.  
  
“You can, what, sense it when I wake up?” She pressed, genuinely interested to know. A part of her was a bit embarrassed by this revelation. Did he think her weak, not capable of handling the things they did?  
  
He was silent for a few moments, his face completely unreadable. “I hear it, sometimes,” he mumbled. “If it’s really bad and I’m up, the TARDIS alerts me. Sometimes I can hear you talking, or even screaming. I’m not trying to _really_ , but my senses are very tuned and it is just the two of us on this ship.”  
  
“I get it. It’s alright.” It wasn’t like he’d come in and invaded her privacy in the middle of the night, holding her as she went back to sleep or anything. That would be going a bit too far, wouldn’t it? Though, how many times she’d wanted him to do exactly that… Best not to finish that thought.  
  
“Do you want to talk about it?” He suddenly asked. Her eyes snapped up, staring at him in wide-eyed horror. Could he read her mind from over there?  
  
“I mean the nightmare,” he quickly clarified, frowning a bit at her shocked reaction. Rose breathed a quiet sigh of relief.  
  
“Um, it wasn’t really… well, I can hardly remember it. It doesn’t matter,” she decided, already pushing the strange golden light to the farthest corner of her mind. Deciding to take a page out of his book and change the subject, she nodded over to the discarded item on the floor. “What were you reading?”  
  
He clearly wasn’t fooled for one minute by her innocent question, but he let it slide, instead bend over to pick up the fallen book. “Just catching up on some mythology. Trying to figure out which planet the werewolf came from. Not that it matters so much now,”  
  
“I suppose not,” Rose mumbled. “We’ve got hounds as royalty now anyway,”  
  
He snorted. “So much for Great Britain,”  
  
“Oh yeah,” feeling exhausted again, she leaned down along the couch, letting her head rest against one of the cushions. “Mind if I go to sleep here for a minute?”  
  
“Sure,” he said, his voice soft and melodic. “Anything you want, Rose.”

 

 

*

 

 

It was several weeks after the New Earth incident, the couch-incident and the werewolf-incident and the Doctor was _still_ grabby as hell. Rose had come to enjoy it by now though, taking the light brushing of skin against skin as the closest she would get to actually, well, _having_ the Doctor.  
  
Sarah-Jane and Reinette did not help, however. He was certainly _grabby_ with the last one there.  
  
Maybe that’s what had cemented it, in her head. That his attention didn’t mean anything, not really. He was busy running around with more _accomplished_ women, and she was just the companion, the tag-along on the trip in time and space.  
  
It didn’t help when Mickey left. And it didn’t help that the Doctor could tell how much she was actually hurting about that, to the point where he stopped touching her altogether and started treating her like she would break any second. It had taken her threatening to pour tea into the TARDIS-console if he didn’t stop acting as if she was made of glass and sugar, for him to get the message (and then he made her apologize to the TARDIS, but she would’ve done that anyway. Wasn’t the ship’s fault that it’s Time Lord was rubbish at being around humans).  
  
With another spin, things had returned to somewhat as they were before, with her only a little more used to – and a lot more appreciative – of the Doctor’s extra touchy-feelyness _(_ she had a brief time to wonder if that was a word, but then decided that if he could explain something with timey-wimey and jiggery-pokery, then she could assign touchy-feelyness as a term to something).  
  
There was another incident – she’d started labeling them all in her head – much like the couch, with Rose flipping through a magazine, sitting on the metal grating in the console room, ready to hand the Doctor whatever he needed to fix up the TARDIS. He’d been oddly quiet for a long while, and she’d lifted her eyes to find him sitting up, watching her intently, again sitting just a bit closer than she would’ve expected.  
  
“What?” She’d asked, a bit uncomfortable under his intense stare.  
  
Something in his eyes had flickered and died away then, too quickly for her to properly discern what it was.  
  
“I was just thinking about where to go next,” he’d said, face breaking into that grin she knew so well. “There’s this one planet that has four moons, all in different shades of grey and blue. Beautiful for a midnight stroll.”  
  
“Sure,” Rose smiled, deciding to let it pass: she’d personally ducked enough of his inquiries recently, so she’d decided to give him some privacy as well.  
  
And it was on this planet with a name she simply could not pronounce (the Doctor had made some odd clickety-noises, before allowing her to call it ‘Moon-Planet’ with a very dramatic sigh), on this beautiful, exotic planet, that things finally came to a head.  
  
“What would you define as ‘a perfect moment’, Rose?” The Doctor asks, jolting her a little from her daze. She’d been staring at the sky, mesmerized by the dancing colours of the different moons, their hands held firmly together. As it should be.  
  
“Umm, perfect moment?” she turned towards him, staring. The moonlight cast shadows over his face, making him look as old and wise as she knew he was underneath it all. He was looking at her, his jaw firmly set, his eyes questioning and warm. He squeezed her hand once, a sign for her to continue.  
  
“I dunno… what, do you mean, like THE perfect moment that anyone could have in their life? Where everything’s just… great?”  
  
“No, no,” he said. “Well, yes actually. But no. Maybe ‘perfect’ isn’t the right word. People expect so much when the word ‘perfect’ is involved. Um, a great moment? Nah, that sounds more… like conquering or some form of enlightenment. A… good moment? Decent moment? But see, those words aren’t… they aren’t _powerful_ enough. A _really_ good moment. An amazing moment.”  
  
“So, you have been looking for something that is ‘a perfect moment’?” Rose interrupted, trying to run his rambling through her Doctor-filter and finding at least some sense.  
  
“Exactly!” he said, grinning widely down at her. “I _knew_ you’d get it,”  
  
“A perfect moment for _what_ exactly?”  
  
He stopped short. He dropped her hand. He took hold of it again. He chewed on his bottom-lip.  
  
He looked utterly and heartbreakingly adorable.  
  
“But, you see,” the Doctor finally said. “It’s very hard to plan the perfect moment, when you aren’t sure of the other participant’s corporation. In fact, you’re getting more and more unsure of the other participant’s want to take place in said ‘perfect moment’ at all. And that makes executing the perfect moment very difficult.”  
  
Rose could feel her heart beating an unsteady drum-solo against her chest. This was getting really close to dream-like territory. The really good kind of dream.  
  
“So, you’ve been planning a perfect moment for a while then, have you?”  
  
“But that’s the thing, you see,” the Doctor muttered, eyes now directed towards the sky again. “You can’t just plan it. It just… comes upon you, in the middle of everything. All of the sudden, bam, there’s a moment. A fleeting, perfect moment. And _you_ …” his gaze turned back to her, finger pointing accusingly. “You keep _thwarting_ my attempts Rose Tyler!”  
  
She gaped at him. “I… I _what_?”  
  
“Yes, every single time. I’ve been around humans for a _long_ time you know, I am completely aware of when a female of your kind is trying to send me _signals_.”  
  
“Erm... uh…” Rose stuttered, her face turning red. God, she was glad it was dark.  
  
“But then, then when I finally start doing something you’re completely oblivious to my attempts! It should _not_ be this hard to get to kiss someone, you know? But every single time, you backtrack or just plain ruin it. It’s getting very frustrating, you know.”  
  
“Wait! Stop, hold on,” Rose took a deep breath, trying to steady herself, which was hard considering that her head was spinning. “You’ve… you’ve been wanting to kiss me?”  
The _dribble-on-your-shirt_ look was back.  
  
“For how long?” she demanded, mind racing over all the odd happenings in the past. “How many times have you… tried to kiss me?”  
  
“Weeeell, I was going to at Christmas, but you were still a bit freaked out back then. Then there was when Cassandra finally left your body, but you were sort of dizzy. Not your fault, that, but _then_ I find you sitting on the couch and I think ‘oh, I can take her by surprise’, only I couldn’t, so you really ruined that. Then of course there was right after the werewolf, which by the way, do you have any idea how hard it is not to jump you when you’re looking all rumpled and sleepy and… Mmgpf!”  
  
Under the beaming light of four different moons, Rose Tyler kissed the Doctor. Mainly to shut him up, but also because, well, what else is a girl to do when the love of her life had just declared that he’d been planning to do the same?  
  
Pulling away just as the Doctor had finally registered what was happening, Rose beamed a smile at him, hands still clutching at the lapels of his jacket.  
  
“So, was that moment perfect enough for ya?”  
  
The Doctor grinned down at her. “Absolutely. I thought that moment was rather _fantastic_. In fact, so fantastic, that we might just have to do it again.”  
  
Rose laughed.


End file.
